


The trial of Kiyotaka Ishimaru

by Shino_San



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, Depression, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Starvation, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 16:12:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18210602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shino_San/pseuds/Shino_San
Summary: In the demo version of DR1. Where Yamada kills Hagakure, Fujisaki's A.I. never existed and Kiyotaka never learned to cope with Mondo's death.





	The trial of Kiyotaka Ishimaru

**Author's Note:**

> (Please do not read this if you are very sensitive to suicide, I tried to be as respectful as possible of the subject, as well as being respectful to Kiyotaka's canon character and how he would deal with it. But in Japanese culture it is different then American culture and others views on it)

“My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, think I’ll slit my wrists again and I’m gone, gone, gone, gone...” Kiyotaka looked into the mirror, how many days had it been since he had eaten? He thought starving himself would be a suitable way to kill himself. How skinny and tired he seemed now after years of caring about health. Besides, he didn’t deserve to eat while Mondo was dead. He let this happen, by not being strong enough to stop him from murdering Fujisaki. What was the point of even being alive when the only person you cared for is gone? Your only friend was taken away and you just stood there, frozen in time and watched as his body was tossed and burned. It must have been some sick prank when you came back to your dorm room the one time, sitting on your bed was none other then the butter box Mondo’s remains had been liquefied into. Stomach turned into bile at the sight, despair within him wanting to scream out in anguish again but he had already spent everything he had at the trial. He was tired. So all he could do was sit at the edge of his bed and talk to the container as if it was really still the biker himself.

“My legs are dangling off the edge, a stomach full of pills didn’t work again, I’ll put a bullet in my head and I’m gone, gone, gone, gone...” It wasn’t working, the lack of sleep mixed in with the starvation method wasn’t working. It mad him angry, furious that he was a coward and just couldn’t end it right here and now. A knife was too slow and messy. He couldn’t toss himself off the roof. He didn’t have anything to use though so he went searching. Without Mondo there was no reason for him to be here. He knew sooner or later someone would be next, so why not make it easier on all of them. If he killed himself then, the others could escape. Though why? Why should he let the people who hurt his friend live while he had to die? An unjust court room with a wave of kids who knew nothing of how crime and punishment worked. Yet some part of him knew that wasn’t fair. The little shred of hope that was still inside him. It lingered only causing more guilt. It wouldn’t be right to let more people suffer. So the only way, would to endure the agonizing heartache by himself. Just like he always did. Maybe all those kids in school were right. It would be better if he weren’t alive.

No… it was impossible. No matter the options he was just too much of a coward to take his own life. He wanted to cling to something, anything! If he had just one little silver lining maybe it wouldn’t cross his mind so often. But there was nothing, only despair. The never ending guilt that rattled his very bones. Every time he would find something he would psyche himself out of it. He’d only be more of a burden on everyone if they had to investigate his own murder. More of a nuisance then he already was. No one listened to him anyway so what was the point? His only regret would be that he can't just go off somewhere private to do it. Everyone is going to know he committed suicide, instead of just figuring he disappeared. Surely they wouldn’t shed a single tear, no one had tried to help Mondo, no one would try to help him.

He wasn’t afraid anymore when he explored around one more time, when he found the rope, it would be perfect. The most flawless execution for himself. An absolute undignified way of going out. For the sake of everyone, it would be his turn to finally do something with his life. To finally make Mondo’s death right by his own hands. He wasn’t frightened, not with the thought of being able to see his friend again so close in his mind. Though he wondered, was there really a god? And if there was, would Mondo even be there? For doing such a cowardly act himself, would he make it? He had done something awful, they both were about to do something despicable. Even if he seemed to be the only one who understood that he was sorry for it. That he didn’t know what he was doing. Mondo had confided in him all his troubles and worries about his gang, the pressure he was under he knew it must have been Fujisaki who pushed him over the edge into such despair. If only he had been there training with them, he would have gladly took the hit. There was… he could have stopped Mondo from making an awful, gut-wrenching mistake.

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he left his door slightly open, he wrapped the scratchy item around his neck and kept his back straight and noble. His father would never forgive him. Especially after what their grandfather had done, it would cause only more shame upon their name yet in reality he figured he’d died, probably wasn’t even alive. Yes, he too probably suffered under the same injustice that Mondo had. Executed for being the son of a man who nearly collapsed the entire foreign affairs cabinet. There was no way he would have made it out of here alive. With the way Monokuma explained it, it was all hell out there anyway. For once he was happy that he had been good at something, tying knots. A peculiar skill yet it didn’t seem that way now. Maybe his whole life was leading up to this moment. This pressure, it must have been what Mondo felt before his final moments. The weight that was carried on his shoulders. It felt even heavier with the addition of trying to redeem his entire families name. With a soft smile, he apologized again to whoever would listen-- to whoever would find him-- with **hope** , not _despair_ \-- he took a single step.

_“My legs are dangling off the edge…”_


End file.
